


S o o n

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: Duolingo - Fandom
Genre: Don’t break your streak, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Gog I wish this was a joke but nope I am legit writing this, Horror, Horror is not my forte, Learning languages, Nighttime, Second person POV, crack!fic, no beta we die like men, unwanted visators, urban legends gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18320525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: You don’t want to break your streak, do you?





	S o o n

**Author's Note:**

> So I made a post on Tumblr and if said if I get ten notes I’d do this-
> 
>  
> 
> No promises it’s any good I just love the jokes of Duolingo being this, like, horrendous force of nature I suppose? Hopefully I kept the atmosphere right; horror is really hard ajanajana.

     There were three disappearances around town, recently.

     The first was a child; a kid in his first year of high school. A window left open in the night, but no signs of a break-in.

    They never found his body.

    Next was a bank teller, almost two months later. Employees report that he had gone out for a smoke in that cold, December evening. He never came back in.

    There was a smear of blood down the sidewalk some blocks away, and his torso left dragged up to a dumpster, the lower half just . . . missing.

    Then, three days ago, your neighbor Judy.

    She’s a sweet lady, older, with grandkids. Her husband passed away last summer; they’d both been good friends with your family, seeing as they’d been your parents’ neighbors since before you were born. And you’re nineteen now, so it’s been quite awhile.

    And now she’s been missing for three days, an some unidentifiable emotion is gnawing at your intestines. She was basically your grandma, and it was hard enough when Craig had died; now Judy was gone too?

    And the catch was - there were tea cookies left out. The Jammy Dodger kind, or whatever the British called them. You knew for a _fact_ that she always had a few out of the tin before she went to bed, and then put it away after (you’d spent enough time there when you were younger and your parents would go on mini ‘adult’ vacations.) But the tin had been left with the lid cast aside, cookies daintily on a plate next to a cooled cup of tea.

    You knew all this, because you were the one to investigate when she never came over on Saturday, like promised. You had long since had a key to her house, and had a habit of checking on her when Craig checked out.

    But she wasn’t home.

    And the police couldn’t find any clues.

* * *

    You’re stressing, that much is certain; tugging at your hair whenever you run your fingers through it. You keep gritting your teeth, too, and there’s an ache steadily building in your jaw.

    Judy is missing. You have assignments for all four courses you’re taking at the community college, including that asinine calculus class they basically tricked you into taking. Your rabbit, Pebbles, is coming down with the sniffles and you’re debating a taking him to the vet even though it’ll take a good chunk out of your account, seeing as you had to cut back work hours for schooling.

    And your damn e-mail _won’t stop chiming_. 

    There’s anger creeping hotly up your back as you pull out your smartphone, and with a quick 7-7-8-9, you’re on the home screen, hitting the little envelope.

    It’s another freaking Duolingo e-mail. Of course it is.

    _Hi! It seems like you haven’t practiced your Espéranto in awhile! We’re here with a friendly reminder, and hopes that you’ll pick back up your streak! After all, you’re making Duo sad, and you don’t want that, right?_

_                       Have fun learning!                                 The Duolingo Team _

     

   “Yeah, right.” You delete it immediately. With your schedule, when will you even have time to practice? You consider even deleting the app, but honestly, you really _do_ want to be fluent in at least one language one day. So instead you leave it be and sigh.

    “Maybe tommarrow.” Or another day.

* * *

 

    You’re jolted from sleep.

     You sit in the dark, heart pounding, but there’s nothing in the darkness. The only light is that from a street lamp outside, faintly coming through the blinds. Pebbles snuffles from inside his cage, and you can hear a few cars pass by rhythmically on the road outside.

    So why did you wake up so suddenly? Dread pooling in your stomach and your mouth suddenly so dry?

   Maybe it’s Judy’s disappearance, you surmise after a moment, through the fuzzy drear of sleepiness. It has you on edge, that’s all. But she had been an older woman, alone; surely you were safe in your own home, with your parents down the hall?

    . . .it doesn’t help as much as you’d like, in all honesty. You’re still pretty groggy, too. You decide to get up and use the restroom - maybe the bit of light will calm your nerves.  

    When you’re done you do feel a little better; the warm yellow glow of the bathroom a comfort. Maybe you were having bad dreams that melted away in the twilight of waking up.

    You also feel the cool evening breeze as you make your way back, and start to relax further; sometimes it was too stuffy in your room. You just tended to get lazy and not open the wi. . n. .dow. . .

    You stop in your tracks.

    You didn’t open the window tonight. You’d been too tired after staying up until one to finish Mr. Cooper’s paper. You’d passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

    And there weren’t any windows in the hall of the second story; only the normal bedrooms had windows. 

    Your heart starts racing again.

    Who could have gotten in? And on the _second_ floor? Surely you would have heard a ladder or clambering - Madrin, your neighbor on the other side, surely his dog would have begun barking? She hated strangers after all. So why wouldn’t-?

      _rrrrrrrrrrrrrkkkkkkk. . ._

    You freeze as your door creaks open, slowly, slowly. It’s hard to see anything in the dark, but you do hear the shuffle of something moving, and the clack of claws on hardwood, just like your rabbit’s nails.

    You stay perfectly still.

    Then there are gleaming eyes that swivel towards you, glittering with what little light there is.

    It’s seen you.

    You turn. And you run.

     There’s some unholy shriek behind you as you stumble down where you know the stairs are; you hand grips the end of the banister as you swing yourself around and prepare to make a break for the sliding glass door.

    But whatever is chasing you jumps over the railing, landing with a thump before you. Its gaze is baleful. Judgemental. And here, where the illumination from the street lamps outside is a little brighter, you can see it clearer.

    It’s monstrous; taller than you by who knows how many feet. It has soft plumage of what you think is green, though it’s hard to tell, as well as its eyes. You can see its beak, with jagged edges like two fangs in it to each side. It reeks when it breathes out, and you’re seized with terror.

    It speaks.

    Its voice is low, human, yet distinctly not; it merely says, “ _Vi devintus praktiki vian espéranto, punk_.”

    “What do you want?” Your voice cracks. You’re trembling. Understandably terrified.

     It takes a daunting step forward, wings half-outstretched at its side; tilting its head, twisting it at an angle that almost looks like it’s broken its neck. You think it’s considering whether to answer you or kill you.

     You’re not stupid; you recognized what language it was speaking - just not every word. So you repeat, “Kion vi volas?” On your shakiest accent.

     It stills at this. You take advantage of it and grab the figurine you know is on the table, and smash it into its face, earning a harsh scream. You dart past, knowing the slider is your best option.

    You fall, screaming, as there’s a wet tearing through your back from your shoulder and in the dark you see red from the pain.

    The voice whispers harshly against your ear in pristine English, “ _You broke your streak. You were warned_.”

    And then talons are digging into your back, deep, and you’re screaming at this point. You can see the slider before you, so close, and you try to wrench towards it, though it feels like you’re being torn in half.

    You’re feeling tingling amongst the pain, and the shadows grow darker. Faintly, you wonder where your parents are. If you’re dreaming. Are you dying?

     You hear a thump as the talons pull out of you and your body hits the floor. A voice, though you can’t make out what it’s saying.

    And then it’s all gone, washed away into nothing.

* * *

 

    There has been three disappearances around town that have resulted in death.

    There have also been four cases of people being mutilated or injured close to death.

    Now, that number is five.

* * *

 

     You wake up, slowly. Groggy. Do you - do you have school today? You think you can hear your alarm.

    It takes awhile to get your eyes opened, and you can’t help but blink blearily.

    Your vision is filled with white. White walls, white lights.

    ”Yuna Orme?”

    You turn your head slowly. Minutely. It takes a lot of effort.

    More white. White coat. But there’s blue too. Blue shirt underneath.

    A doctor?

    “Do you know your name?”

    You blink. Thinking is hard. But, “Yuna Orme,” your voice comes out hoarse. You’re thirsty, you realize.

    Everything feels slow. Like you’re bands of sag. No, wait, bags of sand. Bags of sand.

    Words feel weird.

    “Do you know where you are?”

     You take a moment. A doctor, so? “- docters of’ce?” Your tongue feels heavy, voice sluring.

    He writes a note, you think? Then says, “Close. We’ll talk more later. For now, just rest.”

    Rest. . .that sounded. . . ni c e. . .

* * *

 

     The next time you wake up, things are clearer, more coherent.

     They take their time to speak with you, patiently; you’re in a hospital. Your parents found you, badly injured in the kitchen, near the slider door, at nearly four in the morning. They had gone out for the night, you remembered as they told you - it was their anniversary. They brought you here; You were in surgery, to make sure no vital organs had been damaged.

    You were on strong painkillers via IV; your whole back had been torn up, as though someone had dug a knife in and dragged it down. Multiple knives, at once. It wasn’t pretty. The scars would barely be less so. You’d probably suffer phantom pain for the rest of your life.

    In the days that passed they explained this all, gently, but honestly? You took it in stride. You were more relieved to be alive than anything.

    Some people eventually come in, all wearing dark clothing. There’s a female officer with him. What passes next are long-drawn minutes where they have you recite what you can remember, and then ask questions.

    You know it probably all sounds ridiculous; a giant owl monster attacking you? Much less one who you identify as Duo from the app? You wait for them to laugh you off, or yell at you to tell the truth. But they merely take notes, and ask questions, and after who knows how long, leave.

    The female officer stays.

    After your parents visit and you insist they go home to rest, you lay back, head reeling and back throbbing.

    You sigh.

    “Shaken up, I take it?” The officer asks you. You loll your head towards her and shrug.

    She goes over to the side table, and swipes up your phone, handing it to you.

    “Maybe you should. . .try to get your mind off things,” she says. There’s this knowing look in her eyes, a tad fearful. You take the phone tentatively, and are briefly tempted to smash it against the wall.

     Instead you unlock it.

    “Keep practing; you don’t want to lose your streak again.”

**Author's Note:**

> QOTP: Do you have Duolingo?
> 
> (My) A: Yep! I use it to practice since I took four years of French! I also have Russian and Gaelic on it though I haven’t practiced either since I’m not sure if I wanna learn them anymore ,:D.


End file.
